


Moon To the Tide

by feverbeats



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No more magic. Not until we've figured out <i>us</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon To the Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas fic for B and Wiley.

"How could you, Willow? How could you, after what Glory did to me?"

Willow pauses. Then she says, "I know." After that, it's almost easy. The words come tumbling out one another almost too quickly, sounding jumbled and loose on her tongue, which has been stopping them up for so long. "Tara, I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't think of it was _violating_\--" But no, that's unfair, because how Willow thought of it doesn't matter. "I didn't mean to. I need you to know that I didn't mean to hurt you."

"But you did," Tara says steadily. Her voice and hands are not shaking.

"You're right," Willow says, and it feels so good to admit it. "Tara, I messed up. A lot. But I was scared I'd lose you, and I love you so much that I _can't_." She loves Tara so much it hurts, only now it's hurting both of them.

Tara pulls away a little, and Willow is afraid for a second that she'll back down, which would be worse for both of them, but instead she says, "You have to promise me something, Will."

Willow nods. "Yes, okay, anything." Anything to fix the mess she accidentally got herself into. The relief that washes through her is so intense and so unexpectedly welcome she'll agree to anything.

"Stop doing magic," Tara says. She pauses, still uncertain. "Not forever or anything. Just . . . You use it for everything. I'm scared that it's getting, that it's getting bad."

Willow fights the urge to shove her chair back, to stand up angrily, to deny it all. She can already feel the magic pressing against the inside of her skin, rising as a defense, and that's all it takes to make her realize that Tara might be right. "I'll stop," she says. "If that's what it takes, Tara, I will."

Tara shakes her head. "Just a week. That's all I'm asking. A week and then we'll, we'll see. Okay?"

Willow shakes her head in tandem with Tara's. "No," she says. "No more magic. Not until we've figured out _us_."

Tara still looks unsure, but the movement of her head turns into the little bob of a nod Willow is used to. "We can do that. I was going to say we should take . . . That we should . . . Oh." She looks miserable. "I was going to suggest that we should take a break."

Willow feels like she's falling. "What?" She can feel her face crumpling and she can't stand feeling so weak, but for Tara, she'll always be weak.

"I was going to," Tara says all in a rush, "but now I'm not. Willow, if you're admitting you made a mistake--"

"I did," Willow says, hating the whine in her voice.

"And if you promise to stop using magic for every little thing--"

"I do."

"Then I don't want to take a break. Because maybe . . . maybe you need me?" The last part comes out as a question, and Willow wants to hug her for it.

"I do," Willow says again. "Tara, I need you so much. That's the only reason I did it. And I promise, I won't do magic at _all_ for a week." She grabs Tara's hand. "It'll be easy.

The first twenty-four hours are hell.

If Willow were someone else, she'd be almost angry at how pathetically apt a metaphor drugs are for the kind of magic she's been doing. She wakes up shaking in the middle of the night and she can't stop. Waking Tara up is a horrible thought, because then Tara will know how bad it is. Willow didn't know until right now.

She sits silent and shaking for a half hour, but then Tara wakes up. Willow bites her lip and gets ready to apologize, but Tara just says, "Come here."

Willow gratefully leans over until her head is resting on Tara's shoulder. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay," Tara says, smoothing Willow's hair. "I told you, I'm here for you. I love you." It comes out a little strained, but Willow suddenly feels as though she can breathe again.

"Thanks," she says. Pretty soon, she stops shaking, and it only takes a few minutes before she's asleep on Tara's shoulder.

The rest of the week is hard off and on. Willow has to fight a little burst of irritation on more than one occasion when magic would have helped her do something faster, or when Buffy needs a hand with a minor mission. But the good parts more than make up for the stupid little things. Willow and Tara are starting to feel like a couple again.

On the third day, they do the dishes together, and Willow splashes Tara with soapy water on a whim. Tara breaks into completely unselfconscious laughter, splashing back until they're both soaked.

On the fifth day, they rent two movies and watch them together on the couch, Willow curled around Tara protectively. There's no magic, and it's perfect.

On the sixth day, they get in a fight over whether or not Willow lent Tara her white brocade shirt, and in the middle of shouting, Willow suddenly stops and grins at Tara. "This is good," she says.

Tara frowns. "What do you mean?"

Willow fights a giggle. "I mean, this feels good. And right. And normal. Can't you feel it, Tara?"

After a second, Tara breaks into a smile. "I want to fight with you every day."

On the seventh day, Tara comes home and stands in the middle of the kitchen and says to Willow, "I meant what I said yesterday. I want to fight with you every day. For, for the rest of o my life."

Willow looks up from her book. "What?"

"What I'm saying," Tara says, "is will you marry me?"

Willow notices with a tiny percentage of her brain that Tara isn't stuttering and it's kind of amazing that she's so _sure_, but mostly all she can think about is the words that have come out of Tara's mouth. "Tara," she says, "Are you sure? Because a week ago, you were thinking about leaving me."

Tara shakes her head. "Not really. It was bad, but I could never leave you. And that's why I'm asking." She tugs on the edge of her shirt nervously. "So, um . . ."

"Yes," Willow says, and she's suddenly crying and hugging Tara. "Yes, of course."

Tara's fingers dig into Willow's back with the force of the hug, and Willow will treasure every stupid little mark, every stuttered word, every magical, human moment. She doesn't mind that love is so cheesy and messy after all.

"I love you," Willow says, meaning it without any guilt for the first time in months.

"I love you," Tara echoes, and there's nothing in her voice that means _I love you because I can't remember not to_. It's just simple and easy and true.

Willow takes Tara's hand and rests her head on Tara's chest. She doesn't need magic to feel the impossibly strong connection between them, ropes of light binding them together, independent of any of Willow's powers. When Willow thinks that a week ago she wasn't sure they'd last and now they're going to get _married_, she's so happy it's hard to breathe.


End file.
